


Little White Lie

by kiyuchan



Category: Glee
Genre: Gen, Homophobia, M/M, Open Ending, Sexual Assault, accusation of rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-14
Updated: 2011-07-14
Packaged: 2017-10-21 09:17:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/223578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyuchan/pseuds/kiyuchan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU after “Never Been Kissed”, but some minor spoilers through "Special Education".</p><p>Kurt has to deal with the fallout of Karofsky’s kiss in a way he never would have expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little White Lie

**Author's Note:**

> A response to [this](http://glee-angst-meme.livejournal.com/15590.html?thread=12251878#t12251878) [glee_angst_meme](http://glee-angst-meme.livejournal.com) prompt. This has not been beta-ed, so if you see any typos or anything, please let me know!

The first day back, everyone was quiet. The hallways would hush when he walked by, the whispers stop. There wasn’t even Glee Club to break up the silence. He was silent, too. He kept his head up, but his mouth closed. There wasn’t anything to say. No one would have believed him, anyway.

The second day is when everybody started to talk. Everybody but Kurt, that was. No one bothered to whisper, even. The noise followed him through the hallways and into the cafeteria and the classrooms. “Did you hear what he did?” “I always knew he was sick.” “Dumpsters were too good for him.” “I can’t believe they let a freak like that out.” At least, Kurt had Glee to look forward to. That’s where Kurt could let his voice be heard.

But the noise followed him there, too.

***

“Kurt, I just want you to know that we--I--believe you. That this was just some misunderstanding. But, I have to look out for Glee Club. Sue’s looking for any chance to shut us down, and even Figgins hasn’t been to happy with us, since that --- ah --- Britney fiasco. When this all cools down, you can come back, okay?” Mr. Schuseter had taken him aside, just as he reached the choir room and brought him to his office. At least this final humiliation wasn’t available for the viewing of every friend he had, he thought.

“It’s okay, Mr. Schue. I understand. Good of the many, and all of that,” Kurt said, somehow managing to keep his tears under control, and even tossed in a little smile at the end. “I’ll just go home, then. Thank you.” He didn’t know why he added the last bit. It seemed the thing to do. Mr. Schue smiled at him and almost patted his shoulder as he made his way out, but stopped just before he made contact.

“Don’t worry, Kurt. I’m sure it’ll all be over, soon.”

It would all be over soon. For Mr. Schue, anyway. Kurt knew that it was only just starting for himself.

***

He made it back to his car, before anything happened. He was already inside and had just buckled his seatbelt when his windshield cracked as several rocks were tossed at it. The windshield didn’t shatter, thanks to his dad upgrading it after last time. A car pealed past, with shouts of “Homo” and “Pervert” echoing in the mostly empty parking lot. He sat there, crying, trying to pull himself back together before he called his dad.

“Dad?” His voice was more plaintive than he wanted, but he couldn’t help himself. He wanted his daddy. “Dad, I need you to come pick me up. Yeah. The windsheild. I know. I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. Okay, okay. I’ll call him, tonight. You’ll be here soon, right?”

At least, with his dad being who he was, he didn’t have to try and see if anyone would be willing to fix his car. That’s one thing that he never had to worry about. Now, if only his life was as easy to fix as the car.

***

His dad gave him a hug when he picked him up in the tow truck. No use tempting fate by leaving the car here for the next day.

“You need anything, kiddo?” Burt’s voice was gruff, but the concern was real.

“Just to go home.”

“You got it, kid.”

The ride home was silent, but Burt had grabbed Kurt’s hand the second they were in the truck, and he didn’t let go the entire way home.

***

“You didn’t have to cook, Kurt. You’ve had a hard day.”

“I don’t mind. I don’t want to have to worry about you, too. You’re still recovering. This whole thing can’t be good for your heart.” Burt sighed at that, but let Kurt finish serving dinner. “See, heart healthy and delicious.”

“Looks great, kiddo.” He’d been using the nickname more and more the past few days. He didn’t know why. “So, you going to give Finn a call, after dinner?”

“I still don’t think he’ll agree, Dad. It’s kind of out of the way for him.”

“What are you talking about? It’s on his way home. You’ll both be leaving at the same time. It’s perfect.”

“I quit Glee, today. So, I’d have to wait for an hour for him to even get done and that’s not all that fun.”

“Wait, what? Why’d you quit? You love that club?” Burt looked hard at his son at that revelation. Glee seemed to be the only thing he’d been looking forward to since this whole mess started.

“I just didn’t think it’d be fair to make the club even more of a target than it already is. I’m sure I can rejoin later.”

“Well, I don’t think it’s fair that you quit something you love just because the world is made up of jerks.” Kurt didn’t answer, just shoved his fork into his bland chicken with more force than was necessary. “Fine. We’ll figure something out.”

Kurt didn’t say anything for a few minutes, before finally whispering, “Thanks, Dad.”

“This is great chicken, Kurt. I don’t even miss the salt.”

Kurt smiled, just a tiny smile, but it was real.

***

His lawyer called just as he was finishing up the dishes. He listened in to the one-sided conversation as Burt mostly nodded to the phone and said things like “Uh-huh.” “I see.” “Oh.”

“Thanks, Mr. Stone. I hope you don’t take it the wrong way when I say I hope I never speak to you again?” Burt laughed and hung up. “Good news, kiddo. No charges are being filed. Not enough evidence, blah blah blah. I could have told them that. Of course there’s no evidence. You didn’t do anything.”

Kurt didn’t move from his position near the sink. It didn’t really matter, though. Even if a jury never had to decide anything, he’d already been judged by his peers and found guilty. “That’s great dad. Now you’ll get your bail money back. You really--”

“Screw the money. I don’t care. I’m just glad that the cops will finally have to stop harassing you. No more police discounts at the shop from me.”

“C’mon, Dad. They were just doing their job. If you’re going to blame anyone it should be--”

“That ass, Karofsky. I know. I also know those cops were ready to take that bully’s word as gospel. I know you’re not telling me everything they did when they picked you up. The same ones who said that they couldn’t do anything about those phone calls or the lawn furniture. I know they said something to you. I’m not going to ask what. I know you won’t say. I also know that the jerks can now pay full price if they want service from a Hummel.”

It was a small thing, really. But, still, this little piece of vengeance made something in Kurt’s heart settle down at start to heal.

Maybe it was that not for one second---not a single moment---had his dad doubted him.

***

That Friday found Kurt staring blankly at the television, while Burt and Carole bustled around his kitchen and Finn sat uncomfortably at the other end of the sofa. It was amazing that someone he had only known for a few days would be more supportive than someone who was almost related to him.

The week had been a strange one. Tuesday seemed to be the height of the physical violence. It seemed that no one wanted to get too close to the school pervert in case he tried to grope you. Not even to toss him in dumpsters or shove him into lockers. The verbal harassment had gotten worse. Bolder. Now, most students didn’t even stop calling him names directly in front of teachers. The teachers didn’t care. Mostly, it seemed that they agreed.

It was his “Glee Family” that had disappointed him the most, though. Not all of them, but enough. Even the ones that did believe him didn’t act the same around him, anymore. Mercedes said that she supported him, but that support didn’t seem to extend to talking to him where just anyone could see. But they hadn’t been as close as last year, even before all this started. Tina and Mike had said that they were on his side, but since they didn’t actually share any classes or have the same lunch hour, it wasn’t as helpful as it could have been. The sentiment was nice, though. Brittany was still the same, but Kurt wasn’t positive she knew exactly what he’d been accused of.

The biggest surprise support was from Puck and Sam. They didn’t run in the same circles during school hours, but every time they passed him in the hallways, they gave him a clap on the shoulder and a “What’s up, dude?” He was baffled. Obviously they supported him, but it was odd they’d be so open about it, especially since Karofsky was a teammate.

It was the others, though. Mostly they just didn’t acknowledge him. Some didn’t surprise him, like Santana or Quinn. Rachel, though, hurt a bit. They had just started to become maybe-friends when this started. She did look at him, though. Like she was working on a puzzle and he was the last piece. Artie ignoring him surprised him a little. He and Artie had never been close, but he hoped that Artie didn’t actually believe the lies.

But, Finn. Oh, Finn hurt. Finn didn’t think he did it on purpose, but he did think that Kurt had done something. “Look, dude. You know you can get a little intense and all. I mean look at what you did with me and Sam. I mean, I don’t think you meant to get all handsy or anything, but you need to learn to control yourself. I mean. Karofsky’s not like me. He could have really hurt you,” he had stumbled out, Kurt too flabbergasted to say anything in his defense. Finn hadn’t even asked for his side of the story. He had just assumed that Karofsky was telling the truth. That Kurt had really gone after and kissed and touched his most violent bully because of some non-existent crush.

That had been on Wednesday, and they hadn’t spoken since. Finn because he didn’t want to draw attention to himself by talking to the school pariah, and Kurt because he just didn’t have anything to say. He never had much to say, anymore. Except, maybe, to Blaine. Blaine and his dad.

But Blaine was truly the weirdest thing to come out of all of this. Maybe it was because he’d heard the real story moments after it happened, when Kurt had called him in a panic. Maybe it was because he’d actually seen Karofsky the next day, when he came to help Kurt confront him, but Blaine had never believed the charges, either. He’d called everyday since he was bailed out of jail, just to see how he was holding up. He wished that he would call, tonight, but Kurt had told him not to, because it was Friday Night Dinner. When he’d said that, though, he hadn’t realized that Finn and Carole were going to be joining them.

It was the first time he’d seen Carole since his arrest. She was polite and all smiles, but she wasn’t as warm as she usually was. He wasn’t sure if it was nervousness, or if Finn and talked to her, or if she just believed the lies like the rest of the backwater did. At least she hadn’t abandoned his Dad. For that, he would forgive her almost anything.

***

Dinner was stilted and awkward, but, at the very least, Carole and Burt had stuck to the low-sodium, low-fat restrictions that Kurt had specified, even if he wasn’t doing the cooking. They talked about Carole’s job at the clinic and about some new ordinance the city wanted to pass that Kurt had never heard of. Finn started to talk about school, but realized after a few words that that was not a safe topic. After that he just shoveled food into his mouth so that he wouldn’t have to say anything at all.

***

The next day, Saturday, he made his bid for freedom. The car was fixed and his dad didn’t mind him getting out of town for a few hours. He was meeting Blaine in Westerville at some mall. When he got there, he couldn’t believe how much better he felt. No one looked at him, unless it was to eye his, rather striking, ensemble. But there were no whispers, no stares or gawking at the perv who dared to do that to that poor football player.

He met up with Blaine in the food court, where he was drinking some sort of frozen coffee thing, with a Gap bag sitting on the other chair.

“Really, Blaine, frozen drinks in this weather?” Kurt teased, his shoulders relaxing and with a strange fluttering in his chest.

“Well, the mall keeps the heat up so high! It’s not like I’m drinking it outside. In any case, they’re worth it, even in the cold. Here, taste it.” Blaine held up his cup, straw towards Kurt. Kurt felt a faint blush rise in his cheeks.

“Oh, no. I couldn’t. Those drinks have so many calories.” But Blaine didn’t put the cup down.

“One sip won’t have that many,” Blaine’s smile was pretty much perfect, and Kurt felt his resolve crumble.

“Well. I guess just one sip,” Kurt leaned over to take his taste. It was awful. Sweet and bitter all at once. Still, tasting it from the straw that had so recently been at Blaine Anderson’s lips made it taste like ambrosia.

“See, what did I say?” Blaine’s smile was just a little mischievous, as if he had just gotten away with something a little naughty.

“I don’t see how I could have ever doubted you.”

Because Blaine had never doubted him.

***

“How was your date,” was the first thing that Burt said when Kurt got home.

“It wasn’t a date, Dad. Blaine’s just a friend.” Burt just raised an eyebrow, sure that that wasn’t the whole truth. “It was fine. We had fun.” Kurt’s smile turned wistful,”It was nice. No one said anything to us.”

“Well, luckily Lima news tends to stay in Lima. I’m glad you had a nice time, kid. Maybe you should invite your boyfriend over for dinner sometime,” Burt tossed over his shoulder as he walked up the stairs.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Kurt called back to him. Even if Kurt kind of wished he was.

***

The next week went much the same as the last, and the week after that. His dad would bring him in, in the morning, and then take a break in the afternoon to pick him up. They didn’t want a repeat of the car. Windshields weren’t cheap. The Friday of the third week, Burt sat Kurt down for a talk.

“Look, Kurt. We’re going to have to figure something out for the afternoons. I, ah, won’t be able to pick you up anymore. I had to scale back Joe’s hours, and I need to be there, now.”

“It’s because of me, isn’t it.” Kurt knew it was true. He had suspected for a while, now. Fewer and fewer people were willing to get their cars done at Hummel Tires and Lube. They didn’t want to give money that would help a sick, rapist, perverted fag like him.

“No. No, it’s the economy and stuff. I’d been thinking about it for a while. Now just seemed like the time.” Kurt could see the signs of his Dad lying. He didn’t do it very well. He tapped his fingers and looked up at the ceiling

“Oh, okay,” Kurt said, “I could take the county bus to the shop. I know one stops right across the street.” He didn’t dare suggest the school bus. They were hell when people didn’t hate you.

“That sounds like a good idea. I’ll get you a pass, tomorrow, so you don’t have to worry about change or anything.”

“Thanks.” He knew it was for more than the bus fare, even if his dad didn’t.

***

Dinner was quiet, but comfortable.

“I haven’t seen Carole around, recently,” Kurt said, as he started to clear the table.

“We’re taking a bit of a break, right now. We’ve both been so busy.”

“Hmm.”

“I’ve had to work longer hours, she’s been on night shift...”

“It’s okay, Dad. Oh, I made dessert! It’s low-fat frozen yogurt and some oat-bran cookies. Let me go get that for you.” Kurt rushed into the kitchen so his dad wouldn’t see his expression. One more thing that his dad has had to sacrifice for him.

***

Since that dinner, school had seemed interminable. The day seemed longer, the whispers more vicious, the glares more baleful. He mentally counted down each minute until he could escape to the public bus and go help out his dad in the shop. Not that he needed much help. Customers had dwindled to little more than a trickle. Barely enough to keep the place open. Soon, it wouldn’t even be enough for that.

He still had about 15 minutes before the bus would show, so he waited in the library. Most of his tormentors didn’t even know where to find it. Unfortunately, Karofsky wasn’t one of them.

“What do you want,” he whispered as harshly as he could manage when the other boy sat in a chair across from him. He could hear Ms. Jones, the elderly librarian, doing paperwork behind him, so at least there couldn’t be a repeat of the locker room. Karofsky didn’t immediately answer Kurt’s question. “Haven’t you done enough to destroy my life? Go torment someone else for a while.” Kurt tried to make his tone biting, but mostly he just wanted the bully to go away. He could feel the ghost of his meaty hands on his face.

It made him want to vomit.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen this way,” Karofsky finally said, almost too quiet for Kurt to hear.

“Oh, you didn’t mean to file a sexual assault claim against me, the person you assaulted. You just tripped and found yourself at the police station, accusation in hand.” Sarcasm had always been his best defense.

“I didn’t mean that. I mean--” Karofsky looked sort of upset and sad, but Kurt didn’t feel any sympathy. Feeling bad now didn’t help anything. “I mean, I slipped up and said something to my dad. Then I panicked and said that you kissed me and stuff, but that I didn’t want it. Then he made me go to the police, and I just couldn’t say anything. Don’t you understand?”

“You’ve destroyed my life. I don’t care. You decided that it was better to destroy what little I had rather than come out to your dad. You’re pathetic and weak and a coward. I don’t understand, and I don’t want to. So, just, Go. Away.” Karofsky looked like he wanted to cry at this, but he left, furtively looking around to make sure no one had seen him. Kurt left as soon as the jerk was out of sight, rushing so that he wouldn’t miss his bus.

He might have an answer to “why”, but it still didn’t do anything to help.

***

That night, Blaine talked about Sectionals coming up, and sang to him a little from their main number, “Hey, Soul Sister”. He didn’t even feel that bad about not being able to be there as friendly competition, ready to give the Warbler a consoling hug when New Directions inevitably won. Really. He didn’t.

***

Something different the next Monday. He was startled to hear a voice from behind him, as he put his stuff away in his locker.

“Hi!” Rachel was standing there, beaming at him. He looked warily at her.

“Hi. I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“I know. Sorry about that. I’ve been busy.” She was unusually chipper, even for her.

“I see. Well, this has been pleasant, but my adoring public awaits,” he gave a short, mocking bow, before slamming his locker shut.

“I’ve always believed you! And now everyone else will, too.” Rachel’s eyes were wide and earnest.

“What do you mean?” Kurt wanted to believe in it. So much. But faith had never been a quality life had fostered.

“Lauren helped. And Jacob, eventually. He wanted it as insurance against Karofsky, but I persuaded him,” she said, wrinkling her nose in disgust. He could only imagine, and he did not want to. Eww.

“Helped with what, Rachel.” He just wanted a straight answer.

“Lauren Zizes has access to things and I talked to her at the beginning, when everything...y’know... Well, sometimes things go down in the most unexpected places. Like libraries. So, Lauren emailed me this recording over the weekend. I...talked to Jacob. It should be all over the school by lunchtime.” Kurt paled when he realized. “We also sent the tape to the police. Filing a fake charge is a crime!” She sounded indignant at that. Kurt felt like he was going to hyperventilate.

“I have a feeling the police aren’t going to really care,” he managed, breathless. Karofsky might come after him, but everyone else would know. Know for real. Know the truth. “Rachel, I don’t know what to say. Thank you. So much. You don’t know--”

“You don’t have to say anything. I couldn’t let that neanderthal win. Glee needs you.” He laughed at that. Glee didn’t need him. But, Rachel wanted Glee to need him, and he thought that that was even better.

***

Rachel was right. By lunchtime everyone did know. The whispers had not changed, but looks were contemplative and filled with speculation. He knew that not some of them still blamed him for something. Making Karofsky gay, or something. As if he’d want to. But they couldn’t pretend that he started it all. The recording had made that pretty clear. Hopefully that would trickle out into the community. Into the city. Maybe his Dad could stop looking at those apartment classifieds that he didn’t think Kurt knew about. Maybe people would start using Hummel Tire and Lube, again. Joe could be brought back on full time.

Life could go back to normal.

But there was no rewind button. Things had changed.

***

Rachel dragged him to Glee that afternoon, after he called his dad to let him know that he wouldn’t be there. He hadn’t heard his dad that happy in such a long time. Still, he loved Glee. He loved singing. But, it wasn’t the same.

Everyone hugged him, even Santana, and Lauren, who had joined in his absence. He was totally going to buy her stock in Cadbury or something, though. Without her he’d still be a pariah. Well, more of a pariah. He was still gay. Still a bit effeminate. Still a Glee Loser. But, at least he wasn’t a predator and a rapist. At least he wasn’t alone in his outcast state.

After the group hug, they sat down. He sat next to Rachel, Sam on his other side. He couldn’t deal with Mercedes or Finn, although both were looking hopefully at him from the other side of the chairs.

“Welcome back, Kurt,” Mr. Schuester said, jovially, as if he’d been gone on vacation for a few weeks. Kurt didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say. Not to him. “Only a week until Sectionals! I think that we should shake things up a bit. Change the solos around a bit. I think that, in honor of Kurt coming back, he should get a solo! What do you guys think?”

Rachel grabbed his hand as the rest of the Club loudly cheered their agreement.

It wasn’t perfect.

But it had to be enough.


End file.
